Harry Potter and Merlin's Last Stand
by siriusrawkssox
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his Sixth Year after an adventurous summer holiday; angry and upset, his new year is tainted with romance, action and learning more of what is to come for him as the second war begins. I suck at summarys, lol, so please read
1. Kidnap

Disclaimers - All characters, settings, etc belong to the wonderful and talented J.K Rowling *bow* and the only thing original to me is the plot ;) Also, read no further unless you have read the Order of the Phoenix - SPOILERS!  
  
"UP, BOY, UP!!"  
  
A shrill voice broke the peaceful silence that had hung over the meticulously neat home of the Dursley family. It was followed by loud rapping noises upon wood, and a low groan emitting from the smallest bedroom in the house. The bony, horse-faced woman named Petunia Dursley shrugged her shoulders exasperatedly and stood before the door, unsure of how to handle the situation. If she continued to press him like this he could contact those odd folk from the train station - maybe it would be better to leave him alone, rather than risk an encounter with the eerie man with the lowered hat and the woman with the pink hair. With one final bang on the door that shook the hinges she hissed, "Fine! Suit yourself!" before stomping off down the stairs to prepare some bacon and eggs for her 'Popkins.'  
  
The boy inside the room rolled over on his bed and sighed, eyes shut and faced embedded in his flat pillow. The drapes around his window were pulled so tight that not a flicker of light could pass into the room despite the blazing sun outside; clothes were strewn across the floor and the shelves were covered in dust; a large empty wire cage was filled with droppings and was giving off a foul stench. His dark hair was greasy and extremely ruffled, his face dirty and puffy, his pyjamas sweaty and his whole appearance in general leaving him looking more like a tramp than someone who inhabited the spotless home. Harry Potter had long since became used to the rotten aroma that hung around the room and cared not for his shabby looks, though, for his bedroom had been in this state for over a week now.  
  
He flipped himself over once more and, opening his eyes, he reached out onto his bedside cabinet and placed on his glasses. He stared at Hedwig's cage for some time, wondering why she had yet to return. Had it been idiotic of him to try to send a letter to Sirius? Lupin had said he was gone, but Harry couldn't help clinging onto the tiny bubble of hope inside his stomach. There was no body - there had been no funeral. Maybe he wasn't dead at all? Maybe he was somewhere inside the Ministry, inside the veiled platform that no-one seemed to know about?  
  
Harry had barely moved from the spot where he now lay for a week. He only moved to go to the bathroom or to retrieve his daily platter of food from the cat-flap on his door, or to shove the empty plate back through. Everything seemed so pointless now, now that he was overwhelmed with grief....he was practically an orphan now, with no real family except the Dursleys, who, he thought bitterly, hardly counted at all. He missed his godfather so much, yet he couldn't come to terms with his death; it had been so sudden, so unexpected, and he hadn't even been able to say goodbye.....  
  
Tears sprung to his eyes as he thought of Sirius' last months alive, spent alone with no more than an eccentric, evil rat of a house-elf for company, shut away from the outside world and forbidden from even stepping out of the front door. It must have been so frustating for the active man to have to watch everyone else participating in such risky, adrenaline-inducing plans, having people like Snape rubbing in his inability to help out... Harry scowled. Sirius' death had been everyone's fault but his own. Dumbledore for encasing him like some sort of wild beast; Snape for tormenting him in such a petty manner; Voldemort for luring him the the Department of Mysteries. He felt a sinking feeling in his heart, for most of all it had been he, Harry's fault, for not thinking things through and being so easily tempted into rushing off.  
  
Harry rolled over again miserably and shoved his head underneath the pillow, feeling very much like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. He lay like that for a few minutes before there was a gentle thud as something landed beside his head with a swooshing of wings, and after a couple of seconds of being ignored the owl began to peck his head through the pillow.  
  
"Alright....alright...." he grumbled, tossing the pillow to the other side of the room. He came face to face with his beautiful snowy owl, Hedwig, and he affectionately stroked her, feeling the corners of his mouth weaken. A reply? Eagerly he scrambled to untie the leather thong from her scaled leg and he joyfully unwravelled the parchment, eyes scanning the page. Feeling let down he allowed it to drop from his hand and turned to face Hedwig, a look of utmost depression on his face.  
  
"You couldn't find him, then?" His eyes welled with tears at the sight of the letter he himself had sent Sirius. The ivory femme cocked her head to one side, picking up on Harry's despair. She hung her head, joining in on his sadness though she didn't quite know why, before giving a comforting maternal hoot and affectionately nibbling his finger. Shes never failed to deliver a letter before, thought Harry. Maybe he really is...  
  
He couldn't even allow himself to think that awful phrase. Wishing that he had thought to keep the pillow beside him, Harry shut his eyes, ignoring the stinging of tears, and dropped of to a sleep tainted by dreams of veiled archways and jets of light, slightly reassured by the presence of his only friend in Number 4, Privet Drive, by his side.  
  
*~*  
  
Harry awoke some hours later to another rapping on his door, feeling worse than ever. His eyes were swollen and he knew some tears had fallen whilst he slept - his glasses had fallen from his face and Hedwig had returned to her cage, and was now snuffling contentedly with her head tucked underneath one of her large wings. He didn't even bother to rise from his bed, simply grunted, "Come in," and hoisted himself up slowly.  
  
His Aunt Petunia walked in, dressed in a long green dress which only emphasised the jutting-out bones she posessed and made her look ghastly. She stalked over to the side of his bed, clutching a matching emerald hangbag, and stopped before him, tutting at the state of his chamber.  
  
"We're going out for the evening."  
  
Harry simply looked at her.  
  
"Leave the T.V, computer and Dudley's things. I've left out some food for you in the kitchen."  
  
He grunted.  
  
Petunia looked down upon her nephew, thinking how odd it was how drastically his behaviour had changed since he had returned from that weirdo school of his. Harry noticed how she stared at him - was that pity he saw reflected in her pale eyes? - but after a few moments she turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her.  
  
The Dursleys had been gone for what felt like an hour - but had really only been about 10 minutes - when Harry heard a door creaking open below him. He sat upright, not overly concerned, but reached for his wand just the same. Easing himself out of bed, (for his muscles ached due to lack of usage,) he opened his door gingerly and stood at the top of the stairs.  
  
Harry was assuming that someone had come to take him to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix; the same thing had happened last summer, and unless he was much mistaken it was about to happen again. By the sounds of things only one person had come to rescue him this time around, which instantly struck him as odd. Moody had always been going on about the importance of Harry having a guard, so it seemed strange that someone would be sent alone to retrieve him...  
  
A slim figure of a woman moved to the foot of the stairs and looked up towards him, her dark eyes twinkling in the hall light and her short, thick violet hair practically glittering. "Alright Harry?" she called in a friendly voice.  
  
In spite of his dismal emotional status Harry forced a small smile onto his face and began to move down the stairs. "Tonks..." he said, wondering how to greet her.  
  
She bustled bast the small table at the bottom of the stairs where the phone was kept, not even touching the large vase of lilys. Harry frowned. Seemed her usual dose of destructiveness wherever she went would be kept at bay during this visit.  
  
He wondered whether Tonks would greet him with a hug but her lithe figure swept right past him, nudging him out of the way; she was practically running to get to his bedroom. He heard her hurrying about in his bedroom, opening cupboards and throwing things into his trunk, seemingly ignoring the minor hoots of complaint from Hedwig as her cage was moved. Scowling, Harry slowly began to retreat back to his room, wincing with each step.  
  
"Hurry, Harry, we need to get out of here quickly," said Tonks, hastily darting back and forth from Harry's open trunk to his wardrobe, scruffily folding up his robes as she went. That was odd - Tonks never cared much for tidiness. Harry stood and watched her pack, cogs inside his head almost visibly churning as he considered the strangeness of his situation, and he only stopped when he noticed Tonks had frozen and was staring at him. "Whats up?"  
  
Harry looked her up and down, and his eyes came to rest on her violet hair. She didn't like it violet, he thought. And why had she failed to knock anything down or break anything, even trip up on the stairs since she had arrived? Sure, Tonks was nice, but she was a total klutz.  
  
"I thought you didn't like your hair violet."  
  
Instantly Tonks' cheeks turned pink; she quickly recovered herself and returned to packing, nonchalantly saying, "I changed my mind."  
  
He frowned. "I liked it better pink."  
  
She sped up as she walked, trying to absent-mindedly say, "Nah, I prefer the violet."  
  
Harry was quick and cutting with his answer. "Change it."  
  
"No, I think I like this," she said, attempting a smile.  
  
"Just lemme see what it looks like."  
  
"We have to move!"  
  
Harry slipped his hand into his back pocket and put a hand around his wand, now suspicious and concerned. "Go on."  
  
Tonks was now angry, and rounded on him, drawing herself close. "No. I like it. Now LETS MOVE!"  
  
She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the packed trunk and Hedwig's cage; "Wingardium Leviosa!" she muttered, and the two objects began to float above them. Grabbing him by the arm she began to steer him out of the room and into the hall, roughly handling him and prodding him forward. Harry stopped and turned to face her.  
  
"Wheres the rest of the guard?"  
  
"The what?" Tonks said, before blushing; Harry turned to the Hedwigs cage and opened it.  
  
"Quickly, find Moody or Lupin or someone, GO!" The last word was louder, and instantly Hedwig began to flap frantically, nudging open Harry's slightly ajar bedroom window and dissappearing into the night. Quickly, Hedwig, quickly, he thought, before drawing his own wand and turning to face the woman.  
  
He started; her own slender hand was grasping her wand, which was already pointed at him. Harry hoped he wouldn't have to resort to magic, for it would probably earn him the snapping of his wand - he had already come perilously close to that happening, and he wasn't in any rush to return to the Ministy of Magic for another hearing. "I said, wheres the guard?"  
  
Tonks frowned and advanced upon him, pointing her wand directly to his heart. "Shut up, you idiot boy, and stop talking nonsense. Now hurry up and move it."  
  
Harry stood his ground, pointing his own wand towards the spot behind her eyes. "So, what happened to the clumsiness? Or did you forget that your supposed to knock anything within 5 feet of you over?"  
  
He could see her flustering, yet trying to keep her cool. "I've broken the habit, it wasn't -"  
  
"And since when do you like having violet hair?" He cut across her, beginning to circle her form as best he could in the narrow hall.  
  
"Since I decided it suits me."  
  
"And when have you ever bothered with folding clothes? I thought your household spells were good enough?"  
  
"Nothing wrong with a bit of neatness, is -?"  
  
CRACK!! Harry spun around and came face to face with Mad-Eye Moody, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt and a pink-haired Nymphadora Tonks. In unision they all bellowed "STUPEFY!" and the violet-haired Tonks gasped, collapsing to the floor as her eyes snapped shut. Harry smiled slightly and turned to face the four wizards, (and witch,) who were all looking aghast. Tonks ran over, promptly making the small table at the side of the hall collapse, and pulled Harry into a spine-crushing hug.  
  
"Harry, are you OK? When Hedwig came we thought - well, we thought you were ..." She seemed unable to finish her sentence and pulled away, watching him closely as though looking for an injury. Satisified, she turned to the three males behind her, and look to Moody for his advice.  
  
"Polyjuice Potion, most likely," he muttered, bending down and gingerly opening one eyelid with his gnarled hand. "Out cold...."  
  
He pointed his wand at the figure of the imposter and muttered something Harry couldn't hear; thick, strong-looking metal chains came out of his wand and ensnared the woman, binding her so tightly Harry felt sure they would cut of her circulation. He turned to Lupin and Kingsley, gave a brief nod, and instantly Lupin moved forward.  
  
"We've gotta get you out of here. Is all your stuff packed?" Harry gave a sharp nod. "School books too?" Another nod. "Right. Get your Firebolt. "  
  
Harry went into his room and heard his rescuers muttering between themselves; when he returned, broomstick slung over his shoulder, he found the other clutching their own newly-summoned brooms. Moody was struggling to attach the unconscious female to the end of his broom, whilst Kingsley was performing a spell to make Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage weightless. He attached the items to the back of his and Lupin's brooms, before turning to Harry and saying, in his deep voice, "Grab a cloak."  
  
Without hesitation Harry took the only remaining cloak from his closet and fastened it quickly, before returning to the hall. Tonks was folding a piece of parchment and she left her quill lying atop it - apparently it was a letter to Petunia and Vernon - and then she turned to Harry with a smile. "Lets go."  
  
They all moved downstairs with their brooms and Moody magically opened the back door; luckily it was a dark, cloudy night, and therefore it was unlikely any of the five would be spotted. Moody quickly drew his wand and tapped everyone on the head, disillussioning them; Harry felt the familiar sensation of cold trickles running down his head and, looking down, saw that his body had blended in with the bushes and grass behind him. They all mounted their brooms and began to hover, whilst Moody barked out instructions. "Tonks, take the lead; I'll go behind, Lupin, you go on top, Kingsley, you go below."  
  
Everyone nodded and switched into their positions; Harry saw Tonks' broom rising and began to follow her, rising higher and higher, jetting off towards the clouds....  
  
A/N - First chapter all done :) Please R&R on what you think so far, and I'll have the second chapter up ASAP. 


	2. Back to Grimmauld Place

Disclaimers - All characters, settings, etc belong to the wonderful and talented J.K Rowling *bow* and the only thing original to me is the plot ;) Also, read no further unless you have read the Order of the Phoenix - SPOILERS!  
  
And: Kurbani - I'm getting to it! ;) *is secretly glad she was reminded about that and very thankful :P*  
Tara- You'll find out soon enough, MWHAHAHA! *slaps self* Kidding...  
  
Harry barely noticed what direction the group were flying in, or the tiny pin-pricks of light far below him, or even the icy rain that was blown against him, cutting through his robes like a blade. His whole body and brain felt numb and he was still in shock - what had just happened? Unless he was very much mistaken, someone had just attempted to kidnap him. And he would bet his life on where that person came from.  
  
Why, though, would Voldemort send someone to his house to try to steal him away? To murder him? It seemed to him that that would have been an idiotic thing to do - obviously Voldemort had not realised that Harry would easily suspect things of newcomers into the house who came alone, knew nothing of the Advance Guard and acted almost nothing like the person they were pretending to be. And did the Dark Lord think there was no-one guarding Harry? Well, there wasn't, thought Harry bitterly. No-one came to help me until I sent Hedwig. Maybe they don't care about me as much after all, he thought miserably.  
  
They had been flying for some time before Harry began to recognise the surroundings speeding by around him, and only then did he realise that they were headed for Grimmauld Place. He suddenly felt as though there was lead in his stomach and his heart sank; he had not thought about ever returning to Grimmauld Place, for even thinking of the home where his godfather had been encased for many months brought back painful memories. However, since he did not have much say in the matter, Harry mutely followed Tonks as she made her dive, aware of the rest of his Guard following suite around him.  
  
As they touched down and leapt from their brooms, Harry saw Number 12 emerging from between Numbers 11 and 13, the battered looking door appearing first before the rest of the tatty looking home squeezed out from nowhere. Moody ran up the stone steps, beckoning the rest of the group with his clawed hand, and hastily pulled out his wand and tapped the door. Instantly there were sounds of chains being drawn and metals clicking, and the door was pulled open by a mere fraction. From behind Kingsley or Lupin, (Harry wasn't sure who,) bundled him roughly inside through the opening and slammed the door shut behind them. Moody quickly tapped everyone in sucession and instantly they all re-appeared, looking rather bedraggled and wet.  
  
"Journey alright, I hope?" Harry came face-to-face with his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The old man was dressed in robes of a deepest purple, giving him a regal air, and the long silvery coloured beard and the half- moon glasses comforted Harry. He gave a brief nod, surprised to find Dumbledore here - he was certain the elderly wizard would have been away somewhere on a dangerous mission. Harry saw his eyes flicker over the bound body of the imposter to the real Tonks, and if he was confused he did not let it show. He turned to face the ruffled-looking boy. "How are you feeling, Harry?" He said kindly, leading the teenager through into the living room - Moody was dragging the seemingly lifeless body of the fake Tonks upstairs, whilst Tonks was beginning to follow with Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage. Kingsley ran to catch up with Moody and proceeded to follow him out of sight into the upstairs corridor.  
  
Harry was unsure how to answer this question, for he wasn't entirely sure how he felt anyways, never mind trying to explain it to other people. He felt upset, and hollow, and guilty about the sudden death of his godfather; he felt angered and maddened, though he didn't know why; he was confused and unsure of the role he would have to play in this great war. Unable to put forth his emotions in words, he gave a sort of shrug, though the stony expression set deep into his face was a sure indication of what he felt.  
  
"Look, Harry, I understand how you must be feeling right -"  
  
"No, you don't." Harry's words were deep, sullen, and low, but from the look on Dumbledore's face he knew he had comprehended exactly what Harry had meant.  
  
"It wasn't your fault, Harry. You have to stop blaming yourself - Sirius wouldn't have wanted it."  
  
Harry directed his emerald eyes to the grubby floor and sank into a dusty armchair; it immediantly gave off large clouds of dust and he wished he had stayed standing. "Well, he wouldn't have wanted to be dead either, would he?" The phrase was no more than a mumble.  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "Of course not, but.....Sirius....he went to the Department of Mysteries to save you, Harry. We couldn't stop him, no matter how much we told him to remain here. He knew that he was risking death to go up against Voldemort, but he wanted you to live - he sacrificed himself for you, Harry. He wanted you to have a good life, a happy life - as much as the current circumstances will allow, anyways, not spending all of your time moping around, barely moving. Don't let his sacrifice have been in vain."  
  
Harry nodded resolutely.  
  
"Also, Grimmauld Place now belongs to you....it is your decision whether or not we may continue to use it as Headquarters." Harry nodded once more. "Goodnight, Harry; I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."  
  
With those words Dumbledore swept out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts in the dank, dark coloured living room, seriously considering everything his headmaster had said.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry's life at Grimmauld Place was increasingly dull and rather boring. The previous summer in his time spent here he had had Ron and Hermione for company, along with the twins and Ginny - they had been busy trying to rid the house of a myriad of magical creatures, but there had been some fun times too, and plenty of conversations with barely a moments quiet. Now, however, he was the only person under 20 in the house, and though Tonks, Kingsley, Moody, Lupin and the other members of the Order were nice enough, he longed for some company with people his own age.  
  
There was always hustle and bustle and constant callers who stayed for a few minutes of snatched conversation, and almost every second or third nights there were meetings - Harry wasn't allowed to listen to any of these things. It was rather irksome, being left out of such important conversations, and being treated like a child was forcing a great rage to build up inside him and he felt sure one day it would be unleashed upon someone. To help relieve his anger he spent a lot of time upstairs feeding Buckbeak - in this way he felt closer to Sirius, for Buckbeak was one of Sirius' only companions when he was cooped up by himself inside the house.  
  
Harry began to immerse himself in books concerning the Dark Arts; Lupin and Sirius had given him a wonderful set of books entitled 'Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts' for Christmas, and he was beginning to read up on the theorys of the complicated spells - although he wasn't allowed to actually perform magic whilst away from school he could practice the wand manouvres easily enough. Lupin had also lent Harry some of his large thick volumes; a particularly interesting one called 'Combatting The Dark Arts' contained some extremely handy curses and counter-jinxes; Harry had asked Lupin to buy him a muggle notepad, and he had begun to plan out lessons for the next meeting with the DA. Harry wasn't sure whether or not they would have to continue - perhaps they would be provided with a competent teacher for their sixth year - but it still helped to be prepared.  
  
On July 31st Harry awoke early, feeling excited. He had no reason to be, but, he supposed, you don't turn 16 everyday! He knew he would be spending his birthday alone, most likely, so he changed into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt before going downstairs to make himself breakfast. Yawning and ruffling his hair sleepily, he put his hand to the door-knob and opened the kitchen door....  
  
"SURPRISE!!!" Harry jumped back in shock, caught totally unawares by the large crowd of people crammed into the kitchen. There were enchanted pieces of confetti fluttering about, balloons attached to the back of the dining chairs and large banners across the wall. He couldn't help but grin - sure, it was a rather babyish thing to do when he had just legally turned into an adult, but it showed that people cared. He beamed around at all the smiling faces, taking in the number of guests; there was Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Kingsley, Hermione, Ron, Fred and George, Ginny, Bill, Charlie, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Mundungus, Hagrid, Dumbledore and even Professor McGonnagal. Hermione rushed forward and embraced him, followed by Ron who gruffly hugged him and patted his back.  
  
"Look, Harry, your presents!"  
  
He was steered over to the dining table that looked like it was going to collapse - it was laden with packages and parcels, all wrapped carefully, and decorated with streamers. He felt happiness overwhelm him, for clearly everyone had been thinking about him, no matter how much it seemed he had been ignored.  
  
"Go on, open them!" Mrs Weasley said, her cheeks flushed as she watched Harry. Her eyes were watery and he noticed how she seemed almost maternal of him - he was painfully reminded for a moment of how Molly was almost all the family he had now, but he brushed the feelings aside. Now was a time for celebration.  
  
He spent some time opening his presents, and he received many excellent ones - Ron had given him an enormous tub of Chocolate Frogs and a Chudley Cannons t-shirt; from Hermione there was a large book entitled 'Curses and Countercurses'; the Weasley family gave him a new Weasley Jumper and Molly had added her usual enormous slab of Treacle Fudge. From Hagrid there was a miniature winged horse, pure ivory, about the size of his hand; Harry thought it was a model until it began to whicker and canter about the desk. Tonks gave Harry a large, expensive looking eagle quill and a new leather thong for Hedwig's leg; from Moody there was a squiggly golden piece of metal he recognised as a Secrecy Sensor - at present it was still. Fred and George gave him large box stuffed full of their practical joke foods and wands, Fainting Fudge and Nosebleed Nougat, (Molly frowned,) and Dumbledore, McGonnagal and Lupin presented him with some new deep blue dress robes.  
  
The party lasted for most of the day, with Molly providing an amazing feast and an enormous birthday cake - as they all sang to him, smiling at him and mucking about with him in general, Harry realised there was no place in the world he would rather be than here with his friends.  
  
Harry told Ron and Hermione about the encounter with 'Tonks' at the Dursley's, and received soom looks of pity and awe from the both of them. That led him to remember he didn't know who it had been that had taken the Polyjuice Potion; however, when he got Moody on his own and asked him Moody frowned and shook his head, indicating the room full of people and mumbled, "I'll tell you later."  
  
Ron and Hermione were to stay at the Headquarters for the rest of the summer - "It'll be so much fun!" squealed Hermione excitedly - and the whole Weasley family would be joining them. Harry was thankful that he would finally have some company, and when he retreated to his room that night with Ron he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.  
  
~*~  
  
/Tap.Tap./ Harry's eyes flickered open as he tried to adjust them to the total darkness that had engulfed the house. Was there someone outside his room? Rubbing his eyes wearily he put on his glasses and picked up his wand, cautiously tip-toeing over to the close door. He put his ear to it and heard what he thought was breathing - "Whos there?" he whispered.  
  
"Its me," came the reply. /Lupin./ thought Harry. "Come on out."  
  
Harry opened the door and came face to face with his ex-Professor, greeting him with a smile and lowering his wand. "Whats wrong?"  
  
"I've got something to show you," muttered Lupin, "But I thought you'd like to see it on your own, without everyone else. Come on..."  
  
Lupin walked along the pitch black corridor with Harry close in tow, taking him to a part of the house he had never been to before. /"Goting,"/ whispered Lupin, and instantly a step-ladder dropped from above their heads and dangled a few inches from the floor. Lupin beckoned to Harry and began to ascend it, quickly disappearing into darkness above him. Harry followed, and realised he was going to the attic.  
  
"Are you up?" whispered Lupin.  
  
"Yes, what is it?" replied Harry.  
  
/"Lumos."/ mumbled Lupin, illuminating the whole spacious loft, and he pointed towards a large rectangular object that was covered in a white, dusty sheet. He handed Harry a folded up piece of parchment from inside his robes and handed it to Harry, before silently nodding to him and going back down the ladders. Trembling, Harry opened it.  
  
/'Dear Harry, If you are reading this it means I am no longer with you. I just wanted to tell you that I am so, so proud of you, and I love you like my own child - you are truly your father's son. Please remember to try your hardest in your Occlumency lessons - I realise Snape is a total wanker but you need to try hard. And remember to stick in with your studies, particularly Defence Against the Dark Arts, for I fear now that Voldemort is rising once more you are really going to need it. Just thought I'd get these things off my chest; things I can't say to you face to face.... Snuffles.'/  
  
Feeling slightly disappointed, Harry walked across to the white-covered rectangle and pulled the sheet away; he dropped it with a startled gasp and felt the first true smile he had posessed since leaving school break onto his face.  
  
His emerald eyes swept over the large, life-size portrait; a pair of intelligent-looking grey-blue eyes bore into his own, and a handsome white face was framed by long, silken locks of black that fell to the male's shoulders. He was dressed elegantly in tight-fitting dark robes and wore a smile identical to Harry's own, and was painted standing in a hallway beside a table which seemed to have a troll's leg for a stand...  
  
"Alright, Harry?" said the picture of Sirius Black, grinning broadly at the shocked expression on his godson's face.  
  
"Sirius?!?!" he gasped. "But, I thought you were, well - "  
  
"I am," cut across the male, his features turning to bitterness.  
  
"Then how -?"  
  
"I had this portrait painted over Christmas." He smiled warmly. "I suppose it was just in case - I realised you needed someone who was like family to talk to."  
  
Harry simply stood, flabbergasted at Sirius' brilliance, a thousand questions running through his mind but none that he dared to ask. The two stayed in silence for many moments, simply staring at one another, before Sirius spoke.  
  
"Stop blaming yourself, Harry." he said gently.  
  
"Wh-?"  
  
"Lupin and Dumbledore told me. Its not your fault - it was that bitch Bellatrix's fault if we're going to blame anyone, but other than that you had nothing to do with it."  
  
"If I hadn't rushed off..."  
  
"You can say that all you like, Harry, but you were mislead by that little dick of a house-elf."  
  
Harry frowned. He hadn't seen creature - he hadn't noticed his absence. He would have killed the wretched git in an instant had he crossed his path.  
  
"Don't worry about it. We can still talk, can't we?"  
  
Harry grinned slightly. "Yeah." He paused. "What happened when you fell....?"  
  
Sirius frowned thoughtfully. "I would tell you if I myself understood....all I know is I died." He gave his trademark bark-like laugh. "Now, you look shattered! Run off to bed and I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"  
  
Harry nodded and turned. "Oh, and Harry?"  
  
He stole one more glance at Sirius, who was grinning mischievously. "Happy 16th Birthday."  
  
A/N - Look, another chapter! :P Please keep reviewing and tell me what you thought :) 


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